


Heaven Can Wait

by Lywinis



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Gat Out of Hell Spoilers, fast and loose Gat Out of Hell canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3218414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so, Johnny Gat was reunited with the love of his life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re brooding.”

Bridget glanced up and over at Dane Vogel. She was sitting on the edge of the Ultor building, looking out over the ruins of Hell. It wasn’t exactly the place she expected to end up (and let’s be real, she was expecting the void), but it was warm, and people were nice enough when they realized who was in charge.

Surprisingly, Dane was a vocal supporter in her appointment as ruler. Not that she had much in the way of decision-making – Dane and the Council took care of that – but the power vacuum when Johnny had come to get her had been large enough that only someone with clout like the former President-turned-God-Emperor would do. She’d stepped up, and under her suggestion and leadership, Hell had begun to change, probably for the better.

While the apocalypse was supposed to happen, Zinyak had fast forwarded things. This was not in the Big Guy’s plans, and Bridget understood that much. The Earth had been restored, along with a lot of the people, good and bad. While she’d been allowed to keep her spot, it was with a price, as Johnny had told her.

He’d disappeared after that, and she figured she knew the reason why.

Johnny had a line on the big man in the sky, and he’d taken his one chance.

Not that she blamed him. She had, instead, accepted his choices and moved some things around in her schedule, setting up an heir for when she passed on and ensuring her legacy would be a peaceful one. There would not be a repetition of the events that destroyed the earth.

As the Saints were all now effectively on the Zin ship, there was no Saint legacy to leave behind. No one remembered who they were.

Bridget had considered that a fair trade for getting the Earth back in one piece. Her gang’s reputation for a cancelled apocalypse. People who weren’t Saints alive and well again. Life would go on, and humans wouldn’t be endangered anymore.

After death, however…

She turned her attention back to the city, the heat of the lava sending shimmers of hot air in the distance.

“Just thinking,” she said. Dane crooked an eyebrow but said nothing, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. She waited, but he continued his silent contemplation to the point where she would have been annoyed with him if he were still the Dane she remembered in Stilwater.

When she’d gotten here, well, back here, he’d changed. Gone was the bloodthirsty business man who’d overreached and fucked with her and her crew. Instead? He’d welcomed her with a proposition, one she’d had centuries to find the loopholes for, and there were none.

Rule Hell, keep things moving, keep the money coming in.

It was a fair trade, and Bridget was good at it. She kept to herself, and so did Dane, though when they did interact, it was with civil conversation.

Death did a lot of things to people. In Bridget’s case, it had mellowed her out some. She had only clenched her fists, where she might have crushed Dane’s head between her palms before. While there were others she considered better friends, Dane understood her after a long business partnership.

“You get like this when the conference comes up,” Dane noted, moving to sit on the edge of the building with Bridget, patent leather shoes dangling toward the street below. It was a sign of trust. Either could push the other off, and while Bridget had her halo, Dane would spend a painful century reforming.

“Eh,” she grunted, her hands dangling between her knees. Flickers of hellfire sparked along her back, as she considered taking off rather than having this conversation. She shrugged, rolling shoulders. Her scars hadn’t faded when she’d taken her real form back. She got them all. Every single one.

“Come on,” Dane said, his smile a little wry. “We’ve been at this almost a millennia, and you know I don’t say stuff without a reason.”

“You’re worried I’ll crash the Conference,” she said, her tone reasonable.

“You’ve never crashed. You’re just quiet and sullen through it. Is it really that bad?”

“Nah,” she said. “I love seeing Lin and Oleg and Carlos again. All the Saints that made a change and made it up there.”

“You didn’t mention Johnny.”

“Nope,” she said, shrugging.

 “You’re allowed to stay home, you know.” Dane knew when not to push by now, and she was grateful for it.

“Yeah,” she said, lolling her head back for a moment and rolling her shoulders. “And at the same time, no, I’m not.”

“Appearances tend to be ninety percent,” Dane agreed. “But if it’s messing with your chill that badly, taking time for yourself is a good thing.”

“Eh,” she grunted again. “It’s more…he’s happy. I’m happy he’s happy. He got what he needed.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, white teeth baring in what she hoped was a smile. “That was never my choice. I didn’t get that option.”

“You know, you can lie to everyone but yourself,” he said. She shrugged again and tucked a knee to her chest, a surprisingly vulnerable gesture for someone who spent her life being physically imposing. She rested her chin on her knee, the other leg swinging. “Look, all I’m saying is, you don’t have to stay long. Make an appearance, then excuse yourself. It’s okay to take the time.”

“Took a millennia.”

“I know. And I know you’re not an idiot and you get what I mean.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “You’re not half-bad, Vogel.”

“Neither are you, considering you dropped me from a building,” he said. He hesitated, then patted her shoulder. “You okay in that floating fortress by yourself?”

“Mostly,” she said. “Could do with some more cases of beer, but I can handle that. The frat demons down here know how to brew, surprisingly. They’ve nicknamed it Brahbrau. I punched a couple for that one.”

“Really?” he asked, suddenly interested. “I wonder if they have proper facilities…”

She chuckled and uncurled herself. Half burned wings appeared on her shoulders, manifesting in wisps of hellfire. Her halo was Johnny’s, the cracked halo of Lucifer, and he’d handed it over personally, but she could feel his fingerprints over it. Memories surfacing of what he’d done to get there. Now he was gone, and it was what she had left.

“We have a Conference tomorrow, wheel and deal later,” she said. He shrugged, grinning.

“Can’t help what I am,” he said.

“No, guess you can’t,” she replied, and scooted off the building, dropping like a stone. A few beats of her wings and she reappeared into view, heading for the horizon and the obsidian building floating over the lake of fire.

* * *

“It is good to see you,” Oleg said. She smiled as the Russian clapped her on the back, still the only one who didn’t stagger under his meaty hand. “We have missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get mushy on me,” she said, accepting the vodka and tonic from him. He’d labeled himself de-facto bartender after Pierce tried slipping Saints Flow into everything. She sipped. Mostly vodka. Excellent. “Besides, you guys have a nice gig going here. Not sure I’d be welcome.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Oleg said. “We could—“

“Oleg,” she said, smiling with a shake of her head. “Nah, man.”

Oleg subsided, but he watched her, dark eyes wary. She shot him a smile, and he relaxed a bit.

Pierce darted by, chased by Matt with a super soaker. The beach was neutral ground, agreed upon by all to be off-limits to old grudges. She’d even seen Maero here once or twice, though never when Carlos was around.

Board shorts and a tank top, and she felt at home, the beach reminding her of earth and the boardwalk, though not what she’d lost. Saints all played volleyball, danced, or sunbathed, the week-long Conference generally the only time they got to spend with each other until the next century. It was part of the Rules.

Kiki and Viola strolled the other way, arms linked and looking tanned and fit in new matching bikinis. Dane watched them pass, his wife more than her sister, and Bridget smiled, watching all of them. It didn’t hurt so badly, sometimes. Everyone had reached a measure of peace.

Shaundi moved to her side, Oleg tipping his head to her as he mixed her a margarita. Bridget turned her back to the bar, enjoying the sand on her toes. Her lieutenant took her drink and leaned closer to Bridget.

“He’s not here yet,” she murmured.

“I know,” she said. The halo pulsed when he arrived, the echoes of him using it reacting to his presence. “We’ll start the grill when he does. He was bringing the steaks this time.”

“You okay?” Shaundi asked.

“As okay as I ever am,” she said. “How about you?”

“Mostly okay. Dane somehow talked me into being the new face of Ultor.”

“He does that. The exposure will be good for you.”

“I guess. He doesn’t feel as…greasy as he did when he was alive.”

“I think Johnny helped him turn around,” Bridget said, shrugging. “As far as business partners go, I trust him.”

Shaundi contemplated that. “You know, if you’d told me that in life, I’d have smacked you.”

“I’d have gotten you the ladder.” Shaundi grinned, propping her sunglasses in her hair.

“Hey, there’s Asha. I’m gonna go say hello, okay?”

“Sure, Shaundi, go have fun.” She raised a hand to Asha, who waved back.

“Don’t brood too hard, or Matt’s likely to think you’re doing a Nyteblayde impression,” Shaundi said, socking her gently in the arm.

“A thousand years dead and now you get your sense of humor back,” Bridget grumped. “Get the fuck outta here.”

Shaundi grinned and sauntered away. Bridget shook her head, chuckling ruefully.

Her whole body rippled with tension, the halo humming as something resonated close by. Johnny was here. She turned her head, scanning the crowd, and caught him and Aisha walking up, a cooler in his hand and a couple of beach chairs under his arm. Shouts of greeting went up, and they both waved, laughing.

Bridget took her vodka tonic to the side, moving away from the grill pit and settling on a towel near the wading pools. All manner of creatures thrived here, and it was something else watching little shellfish scoot about. Troy had the theory that this was the primordial soup, where the mammals and everything first evolved. Bridget didn’t know, but the jellyfish that glowed in the dark when the sun went down were pretty cool.

It was a good place to sit and think, if she needed.

She dipped her toes in the warm water, the shellfish inspecting her electric blue nails and then scuttling off. It was nice, she decided, and looked up at the sky. A perfect shade of blue, and the whole thing washed over her in idyllic contentment.

“Figured you’d be here,” came a voice.

She didn’t turn her head, but she smiled. “Hey.”

Aisha sat down next to her. “You know, you’re the reason this shindig can even happen, right?”

“Yeah, I had help,” she said, jerking her thumb back at the gathered Saints. “Don’t give me credit where it ain’t due, y’know?”

Aisha swept a braid out of her eyes and fixed Bridget with a look. “Girl, are you still brooding?”

“Eesh, don’t,” she started, but Aisha held up a hand.

“Look, whatever you think is happening here, ain’t. There comes a time when you need to get over yourself and just relax.” She nudged Bridget. “Come on, come get a steak.”

She rose, and Bridget snuck a glance at her. She was beautiful, always had been, but there might have been a new wisdom about her. Maybe that was good. She looked self-controlled, and even had that same look she wore when Johnny had brought Bridget back into her life, just to ruin it again.

“Come on,” she said, smiling down at Bridget. “Come join the party.”

“In a minute,” she said. “Promise.”

Aisha shook her head, looking resigned. “All right.”

She wandered back off, and Bridget turned back to the water. She knew she couldn’t die again. If she swam out beyond the breakers and let herself sink below the waves, she’d wake up in bed in her tower in Hell. Still, it was an almost enticing proposition as the smell of roasting meat wafted over the gathered assembly. She turned, watching them all interact, and she couldn’t help but smile.

This was her family.

Johnny was watching her. She could feel his gaze thrum down her spine, even as she watched Pierce slam a serve between Lin’s guard. She stood, careful not to disturb the wading pools, and made her way back to the party. She needed another drink.

Johnny had grilled steaks and corn, and there was lobster and fish, plenty of it. She sat at the bar and grabbed a plate, Oleg setting a cold beer in front of her. She dug in, enjoying the food even if she didn’t need it, and just spent time not thinking for a while. When she looked up, Oleg was gone, on the volleyball court.

Maybe because Pierce was there, he wasn’t worried about the bar.

Then the real motive became clear when Johnny sat down beside her.

“Hey,” he said, his sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Hey,” she said, her food keeping her hands busy.

“Good steak?” He sounded like he was fishing for something to say.

“Always,” she said. “Every century.”

“Good,” he said. “Hey…you doin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, forcing the lie between her teeth. “Just fine, Johnny. We’ve got this Hell thing down pat now.”

He looked at her, and she finally raised her eyes to him. He looked good, tanned and healthy, his scars faded against the bronze of his skin. She didn’t let her eyes stray past his chest, instead focusing on his face.

“Listen, you know that’s not what I meant,” he said.

“I know. And you know I don’t wanna talk about it.” She quirked a brow at him. “You made a choice, man. I respect that. I didn’t think I was anything more than a replacement.”

“Hey—“

She shoved back from the bar, standing.

“Nah, man, we ain’t doin’ this. Go enjoy your girl, enjoy your afterlife. It’s all good.” She turned to him. “We’re good.”

“We’re obviously not,” he said.

“We ain’t doin’ this,” she repeated, and realized that people were watching. She shook her head. “I’m bouncin’.”

She walked off, leaving the boundary and warping back, the rapid travel leaving her nauseous and dizzy.

* * *

Johnny found her.

She had been sitting in the slums, watching the demons work their repairs, the buildings starting to look mildly presentable. It was a lot of work, but the buildings kept, and the malaise of the place wasn’t near as bad as Johnny had seen it. She viewed it through his eyes, his memories of the place being dirtier and more filled with despair.

Her halo thrummed, and he was sitting beside her as if she’d summoned him.

“Neat trick,” she said, cutting her eyes at him. “You get some new wings?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Saint Peter owed me a solid for bouncing for a couple decades.”

“Is that why we kept getting souls pitched down headfirst?” she asked.

“Mighta been,” he said.

“Figured,” she said. Her back tensed, and flickers of hellfire danced along her spine. “Why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“Johnny…”

“Nah, quit runnin’,” he said. “You even got Dex out of his circular line of thinking, and he’s on his way back to rebirth to try again. You stopped the souls here from enduring eternal torment.”

“Council’s idea,” she said, shrugging.

“Pardoning Dex wasn’t,” he said.

“Dex had a lot of hate in his heart,” she admitted, looking out at the lake of fire. “He was a husk for a long time after I got here.”

“You ever think about goin’ topside again? Tabula Rasa?” he asked.

“Nah, man. That ain’t my thing. I got too much shit goin’ on.”

“You sure? I mean, you could try for upstairs and—“

She was shaking her head before he even finished.

“You know why I’ve been avoiding you and Eesh,” she said. “You can’t ask me to be okay. I’m good with your choice. I understand why you wanted to see her again. You loved her more than life itself. I can’t ask for something that wasn’t mine in the first place.”

You loved her more than me.

He looked at her, really looked, and she realized his sunglasses were perched on his head. She met his gaze, open now.

“You…”

“You know this halo still makes me shiver whenever you’re around?” she asked. “You imprinted on it. I know what happened, what you chose, who you spoke to. You left…echoes of before on there. I know why you did what you did, and it gave me time to arrange stuff with the Zin before the Earth reformed. We didn’t go back. We kept things going and moved on to other stuff.”

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, looking back out over the lake.

“Zinjai’s son took over when I died. Heart attack at eighty-one. I didn’t think I’d live past twenty.” She laughed, a little bitter. “We’d changed the Zin’s outlook on humans, and a bunch of other people’s too. I did that, ensured they’d never come and fuck with humanity again. I did my part.”

She swallowed.

“I did it by myself. I got you back and then you were gone again.” She looked at him, her jaw twitching. “We had a couple good years and you left. Do you know how bad that fucked me up? You think I didn’t want to know why my best friend didn’t even want me? I blamed myself for forty years.”

“Brig…”

“Don’t, man. I get it. I told you that.” She shook her head and tapped her temple, the stars against her eye fading with age. “I knew I was the consolation prize from the start. Why do you think I’m here instead of upstairs? I like it here.”

She was powerful here. And no one asked too many questions. Except for Dane.

“Brig—“

“Go home, Johnny. You earned your reward. Go enjoy it. I’ll see you at the next conference.”

When she looked at where he’d been sitting, he was gone.

She smiled, her eyes a little sad. Good. Rising, she made a running leap and spread her wings, letting the heat from the lava updrafts carry her higher as she wended her way home.

Like Dane said, Hell was what you made of it. She liked to think it was better this way.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wanna dance?” she asked. Johnny raised a brow.

“You know I don’t dance,” he said.

He was wary. This was her first time back to the Conference in over a half a milennia. Honestly, no one had expected her to show, even with the invitations they sent out. She’d made her wishes pretty clear.

She seemed…different. Less sad. He didn’t want to push, and she didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

“You sure?” she said. “I mean, I get it, if you don’t.”

“Yeah…uh, raincheck? Maybe when there’s not so many people who can bust my balls for it.”

She nodded, accepting a drink from Pierce. “Sure. I’ll be here all week.”

* * *

He couldn’t figure out what was going on with her. It was a little maddening, that smile she had for him, like she’d figured something out. He didn’t push, and she didn’t explain, but the mood at the Conference was twenty times more relaxed than the last time she’d been there.

Still, he manned his place at the grill, and she talked to him like she had…back on earth. He was more in his element about it, then, and even Dane seemed pleased with her change of heart.

It was nice.

“You still trying to grill lobster?” she asked, plopping down on the molded sand pit they’d dug to house the grill. Someone had the bright idea to carve seats, and it became a place to eat and shoot the shit.

“Nah, I gave up and tossed them in a pot,” he said. She popped open a beer and handed him one. No one else was around. “So, what’s your deal? You’ve been…better.”

“Eh,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “No point in me holding a grudge. I figured that out after I kicked Killbane’s nuts into his throat a couple dozen times.”

Johnny snorted. “Goin’ soft?”

“Please,” she said, hellfire flickering around her shoulders and head. “If I was, do you think stock in fear would be as high as it is?”

He plated the last of the steaks he was grilling, refreshing the stock. Most people came and went as they pleased, and he heated up the grill when they were out of stuff. It worked out well when you didn’t have to eat, but wanted to do it.

“You still want that dance?” he asked, closing the hood of the grill. His voice was quiet.

“You want to?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. Bridget stood, brushing off the back of her board shorts.

The space was big enough for the both of them, and even though she was bigger, he took the lead, taking her hand. She slid into his space, easy as she’d always been, and he glanced up at her, finding a soft, fond smile quirking the corners of her mouth.

He put his hand on her hip; she put hers on his shoulder. They swayed, slowly, in a roundabout box step that was given rhythm by the ocean in the background.

After a long while, they broke apart.

Johnny didn’t know what to do with his hands; he’d never been the gentle type, and Bridget had never expected it.

“Thanks,” she said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s good to see you again, Johnny.”

He turned his head, catching her mouth, their mingled breath startled as he pulled back.

“Good to see you, too,” he said, his voice rough with something he couldn’t name.

From her towel, Aisha sipped her frozen drink and smiled.

It really was about time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot I did a mini-sequel to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I jacked a Meatloaf song title.
> 
> No, I am not sorry.
> 
> Basically, I saw that ending choice and I couldn't NOT take it.
> 
> Bridget took it harder than I did.


End file.
